A Guardian of Westeros
by efhb1994
Summary: Instead of taking his place amongst the legends of the past. Medivh, the Last Guardian wakes up in Westeros. The Guardian of Tirisfal faces new challenges where the realm fights amongst themselves while the true enemy is bidding its name until winter comes. However, only together can they defeat the oncoming darkness which seeks to devour them.
1. Medivh I

He was surrounding by darkness, an etheral void which he recognized as the Nether. He couldn't feel anything at all. It was as if he had gone numb all over again. Like when he was sent into a coma in his youth. When Sargeras, the Fallen Titan had subjugated his mind.

He would've no more of it. He thought back as to what could've brought him to this pedicament and then remembered. Mount Hyjal where the combined effort of mortals sent the Burning Legion back from whence it came. Atleast for now. He was supposed to take his place amongst the legends of the past. He would let out a sigh if he could but all he could is let his mind wander until he saw something in the corner of his eye. Small white dots decorating the dark beyond, stars. Constellations. He saw staring at a night sky and before he knew it. He felt a surge of energy surround his body before he felt the ground underneath him. Then it all went black.

Then there was voices. Voices in the dark. He was coming about as he reached out and found himself lying on something soft, was he in a bed? Did he hears voice. He tried to focus and determine to what they may speak. It was a foreign language which he didn't recognize. Nevertheless, it would be a issue he could rectify easily given time. For now he was content to listen and pieces the words together, whomever had taken care of him obviously meant no harm; for now that is. His breathing was steady as he felt his fingers upon the blanket of fur covering him. He eventually opened his eyelids and looked around the interior of the room he inhabited. He easily concluded he was in a fort of somekind. The blanket of fur indicated it was somewhere in the northern areas of the world. Could it be Northrend. No, this fort was old, too old to have been built by humans in Northrend. It wasn't Alterac either since that Kingdom was no more and whatever fort they had was in ruins. The design was undeniably human, different from what he knew but familiar enough to see the similarity. To his great relief, Atiesh wasn't that far away and neither were his garments which were neatly folded on a locket right next to him.

He rose from his bed and saw an older woman on a chair. She was toothless, shrunken and wrinkled. Most probably close to blindness and had very little hair left to cover her head. She wore ragged clothing and wrapped herself in a blanket while knitting on something. Medivh had found that knitting isn't as appreciating as it should be. It was a form of meditation which eased the heart of it woes. Nevertheless she looked up and saw him. She didn't respond at first until she rose and spoke through the open doorway with no response. She spoke louder then there was sounds of footsteps. In through the door came a small man with grey eyes and grey hair. He has a robe of grey wool with volumious sleeves. No doubt in the sleeves were sewn pockets. There were also strange link of chains of various minerals and alloys; some which Medivh recognized and others which he didn't. The elderly man started to speak in a language which he didn't understood. He looked perplexed when Medivh didn't respond right away until Medivh decided to communicate by signs. The man easily picked up on what he tried to do and smiled. Sure enough, this method of communcation was limited it would have to do until he could cast a spell to rectify this lingustic issue.

However soon enough; another man came into the room. This one had a more dour expression on his face and dressed in a tunic with some pieces of leather to ward of the cold. Medivh could see by the quality of it all that he wasn't some mere footman. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties despite the close-trimmed beard which began to turn grey. The long face and dark hair resonated well with the cold grey eyes. He certainly had a demeanor of someone whom commanded respect.

He saw the elderly man bow in reverence to the man, it was obvious that he was some sort of liege, Lord or King. It matter little to Medivh at this point as he forcefully shoved away the blanket. Sure, being dressed in a mere tunic and trousers without any socks. He wasn't really appropiately dressed to greet a Lord. At that moment though Medivh couldn't care less as he reached out to grasp Atiesh which was leaning against the wall. He murmured a few words, a simple incarnation which at sight didn't do anything at first. The elderly man and the Lord didn't pay a lot of attention towards him since they spoke.

"He doesn't speak our language, my lord. He has so far communicated by hand gestures which by itself isn't an easy feat." The elderly man said to whom Medivh now was sure of being his host. Medivh lifted a hand up before speaking.

"No further explanation will be necessary. I can speak for myself now." When he spoke, both of them went quiet and turned their attention to Medivh. The elderly man seemed a bit perplexed as if he thought Medivh had feigned ignorance of their language while the Lord next to him didn't seem amused by the very least.

"If this was a jest. I don't see the humour of it." The man said most bitterly, straight to the point. Medivh laughed without mirth.

"Oh, it was no jest." Medivh spoke now standing tall with his staff in hand. Sure it wasn't to his liking to be without his shoulderguards and cloak bu the had to make do. "It's strange though as I've travelled far and wide yet your language isn't any which I recognized."

"Yet you speak our language flawlessly." The dour man responded curtly which understandable. He was no doubt under the impression that Medivh intentionally insulted him somehow.

"I speak your language flawless because I command it too." Medivh explained. "Look at my lips, does what you hear go in hand with how my lips move?" The Lord looked like he was to speak but then he stood still in silence.

"I understand if it's difficult of accepting. However let's not dwell on it. Let's put our focus on something more productive than a linguistic issue."

His words seems to have stirred the Lord as he spoke again. "Ofcourse." The man spoke as if accepted the explanation when his demeanor said otherwise. "I'm Lord Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

This time Medivh was puzzled. He recognized nothing of what this Lord Eddard Stark spoke of. "Do please forgive me but none of these names hold any meaning to me." Sure, Medivh was curt and direct. It wasn't necessarily respect but it wasn't out disgraceful either. It was obvious that Lord Stark was on the side of caution after how he suddenly spoke their language while still speaking his own.

"I'm Medivh, the Last Guardian of Tirisfal." He spoke firmly and he could see evidently that the man before him didn't know whom he was. However what he did clearly recognize was the power behind the name, although evidently not the power which he knew or wielded. "Now, you did mention being the Lord of Winterfell. I do assume it's this fort." It was more of a statement than a question yet the Lord seemed diligent enough to humor him with a nod of affirmation. The elderly man next to him had remained silent during the entire exchange.

"Maestar Luwin, please see to that our guest has everything he requires." He spoke with a firm commanding tone before he spoke directly towards Medivh. "I know not what a Guardian is or where Tirisfal is for that matter. Your name is foreign. However if you strength permits it. You're welcome to dine with me and my family this eve." Medivh pursed hils lips together momentarly

"I'd be happy to dine with you, Lord Stark." Medivh Finally answered; he couldn't deny a direct invitation from his host. Not at this stage while he doesn't know where he even is. Then again, maybe that's his reason for being here? So many possibilities but sure enough, he would know. Since no matter where he is. His duty remains the same, to protect the World.


	2. Medivh II

Medivh was looking out through the window of his chambers in Winterfell. He had gazed upwards at the constellations except he recognized none what he saw. The Elderly Woman known as Old Nan had left him for his privacy while he prepared himself to dine with Lord Stark. The household servants came up with salt and bread. He learned from Maester Luwin of the guest rights; a custom within Westeros which guaranteed his safety. They exchanged a few pleasantries before he withdrew when the servants returned to inform him that they had prepared a bath for him.

Naturally he could've refused and used a spell which would produce the same results. However, it was evident that this land doesn't know magic as his home did. He used the time in his bath to think and it all came down to a theory. That he no longer was on Azeroth. So far it was only a theory yet there were plenty of factors which pointed towards it.

Once he was done with his bath and dried. He found that some cleaner garments had been presented for him to wear at the Dinner. Medivh chose to disregard them; being far more comfortable with his own clothes. He levitated himself into his trousers before stepping into his oversized boots. He put on his short tabard which hung down to his waist and seemingly unadorned of any decoration. His robe overall was simple, especially for a mage. They were well cut and fitting to his large frame. A heavy maroon cloak hung from his broad shoulders where the raven feathers adorning the shoulder guards which seemed to gleam the green-like hue against the candlelight.

He walked down the stairs and into the great hall. The echoes of Atiesh touching the stone floor announced his arrival. His face made him look more than his supposed forty years, his was deeply lined and worn. Once, his hair had been ebon black but now were greying. His deep green eyes set upon the noble family sitting around the dining table.

He spotted Lord Stark sitting at the central chair as expected. Next to him sat what Medivh presumed to be his wife due to the fine gown along with the courtly demeanor she had. She was most certainly beautiful with her fair skin, auburn hair and blue eyes. Medivh quickly noted that many of the children present took after her features. All except a few whom was in closer resemblance to their father.

This observation was made in matter of seconds as he made his entrance. Everyone had turned to look at him. His eyes shifted between each of the Stark Family, noting whom sat where and to his surprise the seat right next to the Lord was empty. Most likely meant for him and no doubt the seat of honor.

"Well met, Lord and Lady Stark of Winterfell." Medivh proclaimed loudly in greetings before taking his seat before they even had a chance to acknowledge his greeting. He spotted the frown on Lady Stark's face as he sat down. The oldest daughter of equal beauty followed her example while the youngest children seemed quite fascinated. The oldest son though; no doubt the heir apparent of Winterfell sat to his right. "Please do forgive me for my lack of manners. Your customs are unknown to me and it feels like I've not had a proper meal in a lifetime."

"You're excused, Medivh." Lord Stark said cordially putting the matter to rest. Atiesh with its raven motive was leaning at the back of his chair. The Guardian had mentally cast a spell preventing it from falling. "This is my wife, Lady Catelyn Stark." From there on went the introductions.

Robb Stark whom sat next to him was the heir apparent and no more than fourteen years old. He shared features of both his parents yet favored more towards his mother's side with blue eyes and thick red-brown hair. He was of a stocky build and would no doubt grow up to become a just man if Medivh's impressions of the Starks were true. Next to her mother sat Sansa Stark whom was eleven years old whom already shared many of her mother's features.

Arya Stark and Bran Stark were nine years and seven years old respectively. Arya seemed to take more of her father's appearance and obviously not fit for a life as lady compared to her older sister. Bran though took more after her mother and if truth was to be told. Medivh could already tell that Bran Stark had a destiny ahead of him. The youngest of them all though were Rickon Stark whom was three years old. An age where stubbornness and aggressive tendencies where common placed.

"What kind of name is Medivh anyway?" the youngest girl, Arya asked after they were served some meat soup. Medivh initially smiled in response, amused to say the least.

"It's my name which means keeper of secrets when translated from Thalassian." Medivh replied kindly to the young girl.

"Is Thalassian the language of your home?" Lord Stark asked whereupon the Guardian's attention directed turned towards his host.

"It's the language of the Quel'dorei." Medivh answered, pursing his lips together. There was no use in explaining that the Kingdom of Quel'thelas was no more thanks to the Undead Scourge. "Where I come from, they introduced humanity to magic."

There was a silence, Lord Stark looked perplexed for a moment. "Is that how you understand our language, with magic?" He asked, although skeptically. However Medivh doubted very much that Lord Stark would refuse the truth. He and probably the rest of them see his lips move while they hear what they actually understand instead of the language he actually spoke.

"Yes." The Guardian answered bluntly before taking a sip from his wine. He noticed the increased skepticism towards his claim. Clearly he wasn't on Azeroth anymore. "It's a relatively easy spell which will fade once I'm fluent with your language."

"You're lying, magic doesn't exist." The Young Sansa Stark respond with a frown. Lady Stark looked upon her daughter like if she had forgotten her manners for a brief moment.

"Really now?" Medivh retorted as he let out a dry chuckle. With a simple wave and the candles and the hearth were put out in an insant. He snapped his fingers again and the candles lit up again at his command. "I do beg to differ, Young Lady. Magic is very real." He said with a measure of jovial amusement. The children were looking at him in awe. He had just put out their fires with a wave of his hand and then snapped his fingers; lighting them up again.

"There's no need to smother our guest with questions." Lord Stark intervened as the children bombarded him with questions. Medivh let out a chuckle.

"It's alright, Lord Stark. A healthy mind is a curious one. Although it would be easier to answer your questions. One at a time." The Guardian said, to his surprise the children diligently complied, to their best ability ofcourse.

"Where did you learn magic?"

"That's a long story. Sufficient to say, I was groomed for it like your brother is groomed to become the Lord of Winterfell." He answered in a similar cordial yet diligent manner to Bran's question.

"So the title of Guardian is inheritable?" Lord Stark inquired, now taking part in the questioning.

"Not exactly, Guardians used to be chosen by the Council of Tirisfal. That was until my mother defied them. I was conceived to be her heir, the next guardian." Medivh answered cordially to his host. "No doubt you wonder what a Guardian is. Well, people aren't supposed to know." He said that with a glint in the eye which seemed to excite the children. Lady Stark steered them away from the topic of magic and guardians. Medivh indulged Lady Stark by telling of his childhood at the Royal Court of Stormwind alongside Anduin Lother and King Llane.

"Are you a lord then?" Robb finally inquired. Medivh shifted in his seat to look at the young wolf. He smiled as he shook his head.

"I may have grown up to befriend a lord and King, but I'm no Lord. Atleast not a noble one. You see, my mother had a tower built; Karazhan which became my domain when I became the Guardian." He intentionally left out the details as to why she built it. Instead, he decided to indulge the children to tell them what they wanted to hear. "As for what The Guardians of Tirisfal are. Well, they are an ancient line of protectors imbued with powerful magic to fight forces beyond mortal comprehension."

He almost regretted those words when the children bombarded him with questions. _Are you talking about the others?_ Bran had said while Arya was talking over him. _No, he did say beyond mortal comprehension!_

Lord Stark looked ready to intervene if he wasn't full of questions himself. Medivh raised his hand as he rose to his feet; grasping his staff. "I've no knowledge of these _others_ which you speak of, Young Bran." He began cordially. "However, being the Guardian isn't a privilege; it's a duty and a burden which I wouldn't wish to bestow on anyone."

This seemed to put a stop to the questioning, no doubt they had gotten into their heads that Guardians were like Knight and something you would aspire to be. Now they no doubt felt ashamed to some degree. Their parents were quiet as well, contemplating the implications of what he had just said.

"In fact." Medivh began, drawing the attention of the Stark Family. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "There are four absolute truths to magic. Magic is powerful. Magic is corrupting. Magic is addicting. Magic draws the denizens of the Twisting Nether to those who wield the Arcane." While he spoke, he met the gaze of each child as spoke the four rules. His voice was deep and resonating, they noticed the power behind it.

"These four rules are always a factor to a Mage's destiny. What I did earlier with your fires, the candles and the hearth was a mere parlor trick compared to the power I actually wield." He let that information sink in; putting out fires with a mere gesture of his hand was like a parlor trick for him. Sure, he could've broken it down more gently but the sooner they knew how dangerous magic actually was, the better. "However, rest assured. I mean no harm. My duty remains no matter where I am. To use my power to protect the innocent."

With those word, the great hall fell silent once again. No doubt Medivh had made a lasting impression on his hosts. However, he had to see their reaction to know their mettle when they deat with something they barely understood. "With your permission, Lord Stark. I'd like to retire for the night."

His host seemed a bit puzzled that someone whom wielded great magical power was asking him for permission. Nevertheless, Lord Stark inclined his head all the same. "You have it, Guardian. No doubt Maester Luwin would like to speak with you at great lenth tomorrow."

"I look forward to it, the learned men knows more than those whom merely wields the blade." Medivh responded, his tone slightly jovial which made the children to lighten up a bit after his revealation. He made his way after he bowed once again to the Stark which Lord Stark's spouse seemed to approve before he actually made his way back to his chambers. However he didn't fail to notice the one boy whom didn't join them for supper. Out all the boys whom he had dined with, this one ressembled a lot more of Lord Stark than any of them.

"You know that spying isn't a good way to make a first impression." Medivh said in a manner which the boy only heard. He saw the boy, no more than fourteen years old seem to quiver in his presence. Almost in a similar manner his old apprentice Khadgar had done when they first met.

"Please forgive me my lord, I was just—"

"Curious?" Medivh interrupted as he inspected the face of the boy in the hallway. It was long and solemn, almost guarded in a manner. He may not have been here long but he knew a Stark when he saw one. "Why weren't you at the dinner?"

"Lady Stark didn't wish to offend a guest with the presence of a—"

"Bastard?" Medivh interrupted yet again. "I wouldn't really mind. You look very much like your father." The Guardian inspected the boy again, it was something about him. Something similar to the young Bran. A destiny, a great one too if his sixth sense was to be believed. "What's your name?"

"Jon Snow, my lord." The young boy placated whereupon Medivh waved dismissingly.

"There's no need to call me a lord, young snow." He said with a smile, he wouldn't discriminate a child for being born into the world the wa he did. "I don't think you should tarry here, least you wanted to be caught by Lady Stark." She was probably the reason why Jon weren't dining with them. Jon got the message though and started to walk back the hallway he came.

"I look forward keeping an eye on you, Jon Snow." Medivh whispered to himself with a smile before returning to his chambers.


	3. Medivh III

"So the Law of Sympathy would basically allow you to read books without actually reading them?" Inquired the Maester of Winterfell; having easily accepted the existence of magic the moment Medivh used a simple spell to restore some old history volumes to pristine condition.

"That's the principle idea. What you actually do is reading the mind of the author at the time he wrote it" The Guardian explained to the Maester whom almost was as excited as a child. "Imagine reading a letter without actually reading it. A simple touch and everything just transferred to your mind with the blink of an eye."

"Extraordinary." The maester said wide eyed at the implication. The use of this method would no doubt be useful för The Westerosi scholars. More The pity that none seemed to wield magic.

The maester had been most accomndating with maps and volumes of history along with the Great Houses of Westeros. The Dawn, The Age of Heroes, The Andal Invasion and Aegon's conquest. He went through it all quickly thanks to the Law of Sympathy. He stayed in the study until it was time for the Maester to tutor the children. He was told that magic had died with the Children of the Forest and the Doom of Valyria. Medivh begged to differ, there was still magic in this world. He could feel, in fact one of the Leylines went through Winterfell's Godswood. Medivh couldn't help but admire the layout and structure of Winterfell. It was built on a natural hot springs which kept the keep warm during the absurdly long winters. He decided that he was going to investigate and chart the ley-lines of Westeros and he felt like he needed s more permanent residence. His daily routine consisted mostly of spending time with Maester Luwin; exchanging notes of history and magic. Apparently Luwin was one of the few Maester whom studied magic at the Maester's Citadel in Old Town hence the valyrian link in his chains. Medivh told him the dangers of magic and the denizens of the Twisted Nether. Maester Luwin was evidently both intrigued and terrified.

One day though, Medivh decided to take a walk. He wanted a closer look of whom lived in the land. The Guardian visited the Courtyard where he saw Jon train with Robb with blunted blades. The Master-At-Arms Ser Rodrick Cassel whom was a stout and broad man with large whiskers. Medivh could tell that Jon was a better swordsman than the trueborn heir of Winterfell. In truth, there was a contrast in their appearances. For instance, Jon was of lean build and dark hair while Robb was of a more muscular build and fair hair. Robb seemed a bit more graceful than Jon but he was evidently stronger.

"The bastard is getting the better of you Robb." Said the lean and dark youth by the sidelines with a cocky smile. He wore a black surcoat emblazoned with what Medivh recognized as the Kraken of House Greyjoy. Maester Luwin had told him of the ward of Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy. He was no doubt arrogant but Medivh saw past that facade. He was insecure and wanted to fit in besides being a glorified hostage. In a way, Medivh pitied him. He was the victim of his father's whims and mistakes.

Jon had just parried a strike for his collarbone. The blunted blade colliding before Jon manages to retaliate with a strike against the inner-thigh of Robb. The strike caught Robb off guard and staggers by the impact.

"Excellent swordsmanship, Young Snow." The Guardian declared as he joined the Master-At-Arms by the sidelines. Ser Cassel seemed to share his assessment but there's no doubt he's wary of his presence.

"He's a bastard, why waste your compliments on him." As soon those words left Theon's mouth. He regretted them, for suddenly in the blink of an eye and a poofing sound, he was a sheep. "Beaahhh!"

Ser Cassel looked like he had just been paralyzed, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Robb and Jon wore a similar startling expression but fared better than the dumbstruck knight. At this time, everyone in the Courtyard was watching the commotion with the beeting sheep.

"What did you do to him?" Ser Cassel then suddenly said, having recovered by the shock.

"A simple transmutation spell which ought to teach the youth some manners." Medivh drily commented. "It ought to wear off just about – now."

Like Medivh declared, the sheep turned back to Theon Greyjoy on the groundwhose facial expression was one of pure terror as the Guardian approached him. "Now then, young greyjoy. Apologize."

"What?" The ward said before he managed to connect the dots. He was by no means stupid. "Alright! I'm sorry bastard!" He was quivering with fear underneath the mage's penetrating gaze. "I mean Jon, I'm sorry Jon!"

"There, that wasn't so hard." Medivh said now with a friendly tone as he with a wave of his hand; levitated Theon back to his feet. "Jon Snow isn't responsible for being born a bastard. In a way, I was born a bastard since my parents weren't married at the time of my conception or birth."

He leaned closer to the quivering Theon. "Am I a bastard, young Greyjoy." He whispered. The adolescent eagerly shook his head as if he wanted to say no.

The Guardian then patted his shoulder before he turned about to face Ser Cassel, Robb and Jon, along with the crowd whom gathered to see the spectacle. Among those were the Captain of the Guard. Septa Mordane and the Stark Daughters. There were a few guardsmen there aswell. Wary of his presence. However among them all was Lady Catelynn Stark whom looked at him in a bemused manner.

"Guardian, may I ask what this ruckus is all about?" There was a jaded edge to her voice. A strength in her character which reminded him of Aegwynn, his mother.

"Just teaching your young ward some manners." Medivh responded while he kept Atiesh horizontal so all could see the raven motif of his staff.

"By turning him into a sheep!" The Lady said, loudly. For a moment losing her composure as a Lady.

"He treated Jon Snow with disrespect." He answered, bluntly and to the point. He saw how the Lady of Winterfell tightened her jaws together. The high cheekbones and blue eyes pronouncing the fury which is about to be unleashed.

"You did all of this for a bastard?" The manner she asked that was like poison.

Yes." Medivh answered bluntly, although with a measure of respect. "I don't think this is a discussion we should have in public. Don't you think?"

He could see the anger swelling up but the Lady did a good job of composing herself. "Very well, Guardian. Where do you suggest we take this discussion?"

Inwardly Medivh smirked in triumph. He'd very much not to agitate his host more than necessary. This was a good first step of reconciliation. "I've yet to visit the Godswood. Why not take two things with one stone?"

She had obviously accustomed herself with her husband's faith yet no doubt the Weirwood would put her slightly at unease which could prove crucial if they wish to keep their discussion civil.

He heard murmurs of discontent from the Septa as he and Lady Stark moved past the kennels and into the godswood.

Medivh saw all manners of trees. A dense canopy over old, packed earth with humus and moss everywhere. He noticed the slightest hint of anxiety from Lady Stark and stopped when they reached the Weirwood.

It was a large tree overlooking a black pool of water. Blood-red were the Five-pointed leaves and sap were a contrast with the bone white wood. There was a face carved into the wide trunk. Luwin had said that the Starks held to the Old Gods whom were ancient and nameless. Medivh knew the focal point of the ley-line when he saw it. It was like the World Tree of Nordrassil on Mount Hyjal but of a much lesser scale and power.

Medivh could make out the three pools of steaming water heated by the hotsprings underneath the Castle. Across it was the Guest House which Medivh guessed had seen better days. Lady Stark looked upon him with a frown. Anger still seethes through her yet she remain composed.

"Now, Lady Stark. We can talk here." Medivh said casually as he made a wave of his hand. A slight shimmer surrounded them. "Unheard."

The close proximity of spellcasting did no good putting Catalyn at ease. Yet she remained there and gave him a cold stare like if she was scolding. "Why?"

"Jon Snow isn't responsible for being born a bastard. In a way, I was born a bastard since my parents weren't married at the time of my conception or birth." The Guardian elaborated. "Would you call me a bastard?"

He saw the hint of shock on her face. "No, I would not." She admitted, feeling slightly ashamed.

"Does he deserve that treatment for simply being born?" Medivh inquired calmly in a manner a grandfather would yet it had a stern edge. "Or is because of what represents?"

The way her eyes grew wide gave it away, he was on the right track. "Could it be that you fear, that there's a woman which your Lord Husband loves more than you?"

There was a slap to his cheek. It was sudden but not unexpected. Medivh was aware that he was treading on thin ice yet compared what he had faced? He felt confident to see it through.

"How dare you." She declared, anger seething through her teeth.

"How dare I to speak my mind?" Medivh casually responded as if they were simply discussing the weather. "Because someone must dare to speak out. This is a wound which could fester. I wish to prevent that and bring some reconciliation." Medivh explained in a calm and relaxed manner. "You love your children unconditionally and fiercely. You love your lord husband even though it was an arranged marriage at first. Your lord husband is no different except he includes Jon whenever he can. Ever thought of why he's not confronted you about it?"

He saw that his words had an effect on her, she was less angry but more contemplating. "Did your lord husband ever tell you whom the mother was?"

The morose expression on her face which told him that Lord Stark haven't. Her lips were pursed together. Fourteen years and he haven't told her whom the mother was?

"He surely have a good reason." Medivh said in a relaxed manner. L "He actually reminds me of my childhood friend. Anduin Lothar, the Knight Champion of Stormwind and a direct descendent of the royal arathi bloodline which united all human tribes into one human realm. His ancestors migrated southwards to found the Kingdom of Stormwind. They ruled fairly but abdicated in favour of a new king whose line has ruled ever since." Medivh responded kindly as Catelyn listened. "Anduin Lothar was the greatest man whomever lived. His actions lead to the foundation of the Alliance. He was chosen as Supreme Commander. He was more than a king ever could be. He was a living legend whose very name inspired hope, the Lion of Azeroth." Little did we know that Azeroth is the name of the world, or that the world itself is a slumbering Titan.

Lady Stark's expression seemed to soften. His words of comparing his lord husband with his best friend must've put him in her favor. "Thank you for your kind words, Guardian. I'll try to be more gentle with Jon but –"

"It's hard. Nothing worth doing is ever easy." He responded kindly. "In fact. What if I could show you the truth which your Lord Husband never told you?" He said, which made Lady Stark perk her eyebrows.

"How?" she simply asked, obviously shocked that the answers she sought could be delivered by a stranger.

"There's a school of magic called divination which is used for many things. To see afar with scrying or visions of the past. My old domain, the Tower of Karazhan radiated with power and it wasn't uncommon to see visions of the past and the future." He explained with the ghost of smile on his lips. "Before I left Karazhan for good. I drew the power into myself. Ever since then, visions or glimpses come often to me."

Catelyn's eyes lit up in understanding. "Can your show me?" She said, almost pleading.

"Not today." He answered with a tone which was final. "I do believe that you're expected elsewhere." Medivh noted the look of disappointed but atleast she would think it over and not rush into it. The slight shimmering of his ward dissipated. Medivh bowed his head as the Lady hurried to return to her lady duties.

While she departed, he turned to face the Weirwood, his gaze fell upon the carved face on the trunk. The sap running down made it look like it was crying. He reached out to touch the smooth bark of the bone white tree. He felt a surge though him and that every nerve of his body felt the power of the land itself. He also heard something, a voice which was definitely human but it was old. Very old indeed. "Who are you?" the elderly voice demanded. He showed what he wanted the stranger to see. He wouldn't surrender his magical knowledge. However he could feel the stranger probe at his mental barriers. Ofcouse Medivh would've none of it.

"I'm the Guardian Medivh." He now spoke while he now started to glow out of his volition, diminishing all light and suck it all into himself. In the face of his now relaxed and radiant figure as he sent the stranger a message, that he wielded a power not to be trifled with.

"So it's true. The Guardian of Tirisfal has arrived. I began to doubt." The voice said, Medivh managed to get a glimpse of the elderly man underneath a weirwood in the far north; covered and sustained by its roots. He saw a name.

"You're Lord Brynden Rivers, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and the last Greenseer." Medivh said in return; deeply but cordially all the same.

"I'm impressed. You're indeed powerful. A great ally to the war to come." The greenseer responded. Medivh saw images of the White Walkers band the hordes wright slowly descending southwards with the coming winter. A young woman with white hair and violet eye, naked and surrounded by fire. Three dragon whelps clutching to her like if she was her mother. The coronation of a young boy with golden hair and green eyes. He then saw a bay filled with ships lit up with green fire. The sight of the green fire alarmed him, could it be fel? It all came so fast and inconsistent; unfinished like a draft yet to be filled out. "It seems like we have a common cause. As you can see, the future is still in flux. The ink has not yet dried on the parchment."

"Indeed, Greenseer. Although that green fire does concern me." Medivh mused, more to himself than anything. Then he called reading something about alchemists which conducted something called wildfire. He would've to investigate. "I can feel that your age is wearing you thin. You seek a heir do you not?" Medivh conveyed a mental image of Bran Stark. He decided to change the subject as it wouldn't do any good to ponder anymore about the nature of what he saw. Atleast not yet anyway.

"I've been waiting for a long time." The Greenseer replied, not bother to hide the wariness in his voice. Medivh had the tenacity of the Greenseer for being able to pull through after all these years.

"When the time comes. I'll bring him to you. I sensed a destiny ahead of him. This could be it." Medivh mused and he could sense the Greenseer's gratitude. "However, I need something in return."

The greenseer could sense what he wanted. Ancient knowledge of this world. Locations with Weirwoods so he could chart the ley-lines. "You shall have it."


	4. Gul'dan I

A hunched figure made his way through the streets. His purple robe with red lining went along his large frame. The cowl casting a shadow across his face. Yet they failed to hide the glowing red eyes illuminating his coarse facial features with two predatory tusks by the lower jaw and a white beard reaching down to his abdomen. His skin was sickly green and spikes which has grown out of his back. Anyone whom saw him wouldn't believe that he was a human, they would be correct in their assessment. He was an orc, an elderly one whose power was brimming. He was Gul'dan, Darkness Incarnate.

His master had sent him here to this pitiful world to atone for his failure. He had dared the Tomb of Sargeras and paid the price. His skull became a demonic object which stored his soul and memories. That was until his skull was stolen by a Kaldorei named Illidan. Fortunately, his soul had become more demonic. Kil'jaeden had restored it and his body before he was sent here. The Warlocks of Qarth was already waiting for him; Kil'jaedan had already appeared in their dreams and promised power and that he would send his emissary to train them.

Gul'dan approached a crumbling grey ancient without towers or windows. It was coiled with black-barked trees with inky blue leaves. KIl'jaedan had told him that the warlocks were pitiful but would serve their purposes well in the conquest of this world. He entered through the tall oval mouth door fashioned like the face of a human. The rules for entering this palace of dust was pitiful. He had no need to drink any of that shade of the evening and simply walked through and took the door to the right; walked up the stairs. Never wavering before he entered the Audience Chamber where the _so-called_ Warlocks of Qarth was waiting for him. They were all pale of skin and dressed in long and beaded robes. Their lips were pale blue and they seemed indifferent by his features.

One of them stepped forth, no different than the others. "We bid you greetings to the House of the Undying. The Great One spoke of your arrival." The meek pale man said. Kil'jaeden went by many monikers but those whom opposed him knew him as the deceiver. The orc's gaze swept across the _so-called_ warlocks and saw weakness. They held no true power. "I'm Pyat Pree and I speak for the Warlocks of Qarth."

"Pitiful." He said, not bothering to hide his discontent. The lead one whom spoke arched a thin brow. "Spare me your sense of grandeur. I had no need to drink any of that pitiful potion of yours. I look at you and all I see are weaklings. Pitiful weaklings whom have no grasp of what true power is." There was a moment of silence; he could smell their fear now.

"I'll show you real power." He said before he reached out with his hand as the one whom spoke for the House of the Undying was now getting paler while his life force was drained from him and the speed of it left him a mere husk. The now bloated skin hugging the bones tightly as it fell for all to see. "Power such as this can be yours." He declared to the rest whom were grumbling amongst themselves. A cruel wicked grin spread across his face, knowing that he had them in his grasp.

"We'll follow your teachings." One of them said, then another one until everyone in the audience chamber announced their allegiance; all for the sake of power. Gul'dan had plans already, these warlocks would become the foundation of his new Shadow Council. Qarth would be the stronghold and staging ground before they would see the world burn. The Darkness Incarnate would see his vision realized, one way or another.


	5. Eddard I

The murmur of discontent made by Septa Mordane was quickly made known; witchcraft. Some whom saw the ward momentarily made into a sheep didn't disagree. The rumors had spread like wildfire and it didn't help that Medivh break the fast with them each morning. Infact it was mostly due to the Stark daughters could practice their courtesies.

Even he, Lord Eddard Stark could feel the increased tension at breakfast. Septa Mordana not daring to speak with the Guardian whom by now had heard the rumors didn't seem to care.

The sudden appearance of Medivh felt like a life-changing moment like when he wedded Cat or the birth of his children, even Jon. Cat said that the way he spoke indicated some experience at court which supported Medivh's tale of having grown up befriending a Lord and a King.

The first few days of his state have been with Maester Luwin in his study. Apparently he could read books without actually reading them but through reading the minds of the writer. It puzzled Ned to no end to have someone inside wielding extraordinary powers yet it didn't seem justified. Medivh has been nothing but cordial and rarely used any magic. He never demanded anything, merely asking for permission and the like. The children, especially Arya and Bran seems very receptive of him while Sansa and Robb were cautious ever since his display of magic during that dinner.

Theon's behavior has improved drastically. No doubt in fear of being turned into a sheep again. He quivers whenever he sees the Guardian whom actually is pleasant company.

However, his demeanor changed after a visit to the Godswood. He was more bemused and seemingly focused on something. It seems that even the Guardian has his moods. One day at breakfast though, he spoke directly to him. "You've been a gracious host, Lord Stark." There was a silence as tension was still in the air between the Guardian and the Septa. "I've been contemplating and come to a conclusion that I don't have a more permanent residence. However, what I suggest might ruffle some feathers."

Ned knew the power of silence and Medivh has mastered it well; especially when the Guardian gave the Septa a light scowl. "I couldn't help but notice that the First Keep Ian't in use." Eddard nodded, the squat and round drum tower was The oldest surviving part of the castle which has not been in use for a long time.

"What of it, Medivh?" The Lord of Winterfell spoke.

"I'd like to take to make my residence there and restore the broken tower by the North wall. In addition, I do believe establishing magical wards around and inside Winterfell would be prudent, with your leave ofcourse."

"Witchcraft." The septa sneer as she rose. "You'd seek to corrupt Winterfell with your witchcraft." Lord Stark felt that maybe he should intervene yet he knew that Medivh had a way with words.

"What do you know about magic?" Medivh responded calmly. "Nothing. You know nothing of magic, Septa." He obviously put an emphasis on nothing since the word was repeated and Eddard was inclined to believe him.

"Magic is dangerous. Magic is corrupting. Magic is addicting. Magic draws the denizens of the twisted nether to those who wield the Arcane." Sansa spoke, quoting Medivh word for word about the Four Rules of Magic. "Didn't you say so yourself?"

Eddard saw a hint of a smile on the Guardian's face. "Well isn't that quaint. A young lady quoting the four rules magic to the Guardian of Tirisfal." He responded with faint amusement. "You're right ofcourse. Maybe that's why I seek to make my residence here I'm Winterfell so that people like me could keep an eye on me."

Septa narrowed her eyebrows, seemingly surprised by her reasoning, truthfully so was Eddard. "Don't you trust yourself, Guardian."

"Arrogance was the downfall of my mother." He spoke as if he personally had to pay the price. "The tale is a long one but I'll be brief. Many centuries before I was born, my mother fought demons in a far northern land. She thought that she had defeated the lord of all demons whom instead outwitted her. My good friend, King Llane suffered for it and so did the entire Kingdom of Stormwind." Medivh elaborated, his expression became more morose. "I suffered the consequences aswell. Disaster was averted because I was surrounded by good people."

Eddard couldn't help but feel sympathy for the Guardian. The tone in his deep voice and the sorrow in those green eyes of, eyes hiding knowledge beyond the Lord of Winterfell's comprehension. Everyone around that table saw how human he was at that moment.

"I'm sorry, please forgive for my outburst." The Septa finally said but the Guardian merely shook his head.

"Don't be, even the wise must be challenged so they can maintain their wit." He said with a smile. "Well, Lord Stark what do you say?"

Eddard couldn't help but feel torn at this very moment. For one, Medivh has made it very clear that he wouldn't bend the knee or swear any oath of fealty. On the other hand, he just told them that having good people around him could prevent disaster.

"You've my leave, Guardian. However, I still expect that you break your fast with us and dine with us. That you respect our laws." Eddard said, he spoke as a Lord now. "Is that understood?"

Medivh smiled as he bowed his head. "As you say, Lord Stark."

It was only much later toward dusk when they felt a rumble through The air itself. People were gathering in The courtyard. Cat was holding a frightened Rickon while the other children wasn't far off. Eddard felt The smell of metal and his neck hair was standing. "What manner of sorcery is this?" Ser Cassel murmured, fear evident in his voice.

The Broken Tower and the First Keep was shimmer with a mystical and otherworldly glow. He now felt the taste of metal on the tip of his tongue as he felt warm and cold at the same time. Then there was a voice in the air which he recognized it as the Guardian's.

No one dared to move not even Bran and Arya. The dogs at the kennel were whimpering. They were afraid, all of them.

Eddard saw how brick by brick, the old watchtower was rebuilt by a force, like if it was reversed like it all fell into place. However, it all blurred bye the mystical shimmering before smother rumble was heard. Then they heard something akin to thunders, roaring across the air as they saw sudden sparks within the shimmering like lighting. Eddard could've sworn that for a blink of an eye that the tower and the first keep was gone. Then suddenly, it all just stopped and dissipated.

Eddard could scarcely believe his eyes. The Broken Tower and the First Keep which he knew was gone. Where the broken tower used to be was now a tower; taller than the old watchtower.

The First Keep was no longer a squat and round drum tower. Instead it now now doubled in height with some kind of dome at the top. There was now a bridge between the restored watchtower and the first keep like the one between the Great Keep and the Armory but smaller.

They then saw a raven flying from the now improved first keep. People were perplexed at first. The rookery was above the Maester's Turret. The raven landed in front of the crowd before it started to dimly glow with a green-like hue. The guards were approaching with their blades drawn but Eddard had raised a flat hand their way; signaling for them to stay their ground. The glow faded as the form of the raven changed to a man. "Medivh?" Eddard asked.

"Whom else?" The Guardian answered with a jovial smile. "I hope that you weren't too worried."

"I can't argue with the result." Eddard admitted.

"The exterior is one thing. It's what is inside which should interest you." The Guardian responded courteous as always. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way, Guardian." He said as he gave the others a look which had them get back to their business. Medivh proceeded to lead him up the spiraling stairway of the watchtower before crossing the bridge. They entered the First Keep and the first thing Eddard noticed is that the interior had changed. It was ornate with a black marble floor which were a contrast to the pristine white walls. Ned wasn't entirely sure what to feel to have a piece of his ancestral home change so suddenly.

"I hope that you don't mind that I redecorated." Medivh asked in the usual relaxed manner. "I've removed the entrance at the base of the First Keep. For various reasons." He explained as they walked through the hallway which was lit up by levitating candles which illuminated the shimmering tapestries which was embroiled with figures he didn't recognize. No doubt characters in a story. "Each of them tells a part of a story. War of the Ancients. A conflict which changed which changed my homeworld forever."

Eddard came to halt. Did he just say, homeworld? "Yes, you heard right. I'm not of this world." Medivh said as he turned to face the Lord of Winterfell. "I was ready to take my place amongst the legends of the past but instead I woke up here in your care."

Eddard stared at the Guardian whose deep green eyes were penetrating his own. He couldn't help but believe what the Guardian said. It made sense he had never heard of what he spoke off. To ask why he never told them until now was pointless. They didn't know magic as intimately as he did. He doesn't think he would've believed him if he hadn't seen what he saw today.

"My world no longer needs a Guardian as mortal races banded together to vanquish a great evil." Medivh said as they continued through the hallway until they came to a intersection of doors. "Sleeping quarters for my apprentices or assistants." He commented before they came to the end of the hallway where there was a door and a spiraling stairway which lead up. "Beyond that door is a flight of stairs going down to the basement. It'll be used for storage."

"Above me is my quarters, private study and a library spanning a few floors." He wasn't kidding. The library put his own to shame by sheer size and content. A spiraling stairway taking them up each level. Shelves upon shelves with volumes and volumes of books. More levitating candles illuminated each sections. More shimmering tapestries decorated the walls in-between the shelves and there where shelves hiding behind the shelves! It was like a maze!

"The top floors are chambers meant for more advanced spellcasting. It's also an observatory used for stargazing." The Guardian explained as they sat down in Medivh's Study. Quite frankly Eddard was busy by the tour.

"Well Medivh. You've certainly made yourself at home." The Lord of Winterfell complimented to the Guardian whom with a wave of his hand had two goblets appear in front of them along with a pitcher with fresh water.

"Times are chaning, Lord Stark" The Guardain said after a moment of silence when Ned had regained his bearings. "I've seen a glimpse of what's to come. It is as your house says, Winter is Coming. However, I fear with it comes the undead. Those whom you call the White Walkers and their armies of wights."

Ned looked up from his now drained goblet of water. His gaze fixated on Medivh in disbelief. He looked hard but saw no hint of deceit or a lie. "Gods preserves us." He commented. "There's more isn't there?"

"I saw the coronation of a boy with golden hair and green eyes. A naked girl with white hair and violet eyes walking out of a fire with three dragon whelplings. Most concerning was a bay filled with ships burnt to crisp by green fire." Ned was stunned. A coronation, so Robert wouldn't survive to see the coming winter? That girl, a Targaryen with newborn dragons? A bay with burning ships, that green fire reminded him of wildfire.

"These are dire news." Ned said with a sigh. He had no reason to doubt Medivh's words. Not after having seen how kind and good he is with his children, especially Jon whom few showed kindness to. "Is that why you wanted your own residence and restore that watch tower?"

"An astute observation, Lord Stark." Medivh said with a nod. "You must prepare your people for the coming storm. However, I doubt others would trust the words of a stranger." He would be correct, he doubted the southerners would care for his premonitions, neither would his friend Robert heed his warnings.

"You would be correct. I can only marshal and prepare the North and that will have to be enough." Ned said, determinedly with steel to his voice. "I shall not speak of the Targaryen either, King Robert wouldn't stop at nothing to see all of them dead."

"Very well. I do have one last thing to ask, Lord Stark." The Guardian then said after a moment of contemplation. Ned nodded as to have his consent. "I'd like to teach one of your children in the magical arts. Specifically, Bran."


End file.
